


everything (is going to be fine)

by writtenrevolution



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angelica's Daughter, Author knows nothing about children/child care, Comfort, Domestic, Enemies to Friends, Explicit Language, Human Disaster Alexander Hamilton, M/M, Prompt Fic, Sickfic, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22354945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenrevolution/pseuds/writtenrevolution
Summary: “What do we do? Should we call an ambulance?” Alexander asks, eyes wide as he gestures to the phone in his hand.Thomas sends him a skeptical look before his attention is turned back to Kitty, “That’d be unnecessary at this point, darlin’. Let’s try to cool this sweetheart down a little and then we can figure out some next steps.”“Thomas are you sure-”“Do you trust me?” Thomas interrupts him, Kitty cooing softly in his arms, and Alexander blinks.(In which Alexander knows nothing about sick kids, and Thomas is the only person that would answer their phone.)
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson, John Barker Church/Angelica Schuyler (Mentioned)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 238





	everything (is going to be fine)

**Author's Note:**

> written for a Tumblr request: a Jamilton comfort fic (specifically with baby/ies) 
> 
> dedicated to the prompt human that dropped this into my asks. I wasn't sure exactly what you were wanting, but this popped into my head and I had to write it. I hope it brings you a little comfort and distraction. 
> 
> (warning: I don't know shit about children. I helped raise my little brother but that's the extent of my knowledge. I consulted google every other word while writing this, so if I'm incredibly off base, you'll have to forgive me)

When Alexander had agreed to watch Angelica’s daughter, it was because he was the last resort. Eliza and Hercules were both in Albany visiting Philip Schuyler, John was back in South Carolina for the weekend, Lafayette was on a flight back from France, and Peggy was spending the foreseeable future on the West Coast. 

Which meant when Angelica had called him, begging him to watch little  Catharine for the night while her and John were out of town on business, he had reluctantly accepted. Alexander wasn’t great with children. It wasn’t because he didn’t like them, but rather because childcare wasn’t one of the skills he had picked up in his twenty-eight years on Earth. 

He had barely made it out of his own childhood, clinging to life and glory with a steel knuckle grip, and he had used it to drag himself out of poverty, out of danger, and out of oblivion. But that was him, and that was a long time ago. The thought of being responsible for an infant, just eight months old, new to the world and unknowing in all aspects, was terrifying. 

But Angelica had been desperate. Her words on the phone were pleading as she begged him to care for her little Kitty for just the night. It was too late to get a babysitter, and everyone else she knew was out of town for the night, and Alexander was the only person left. 

He was fond of Kitty, and even at only eight months he could already see Angelica’s personality in her daughter. So he had accepted, only on the condition that Angelica keep her phone on throughout the car ride and meeting. When she had agreed, promising to be at his house within the hour, he released a deep sigh from the base of his lungs and wondered how the fuck he had gotten into this mess. 

The first three hours are great. Kitty is awake, staring up at Alexander with big brown eyes, and smiling when he reads her kid friendly stories he had found on the internet. He manages to feed her with no problem, Kitty curled up in his arm as he held the bottle for her. Her tiny hand came up to push against the bottle, and she ended up curling her fingers against Alexander’s. 

He pauses at the touch, looking down to see her tiny fingers wrapped around his index finger. It’s cute, charmingly so, and Alexander won’t lie and say he didn’t coo a little at her. 

The next hour is fine, too, thankfully. He gets her burped without difficulty, changes her diaper, and puts her in the light green onesie Angelica had mentioned she loved. He rocks her for a little while, just the steady feel of her heavy on his arms, murmuring Spanish lullabies under his breath until her eyes finally flutter shut and she falls asleep. 

He moves carefully then, placing her down in the small crib that Angelica had brought with her. Quietly and slowly, he zips her into the sleep sack and brushes some of the wispy hairs off her forehead. 

“Goodnight,  _ Mi querida _ .” Alexander says, turning the light to his bedroom off and shutting the door behind him. He leans against it, letting out a relieved breath, and thanking the universe that he’s made it this long without problem. 

Like everything in his life, the relief is short lasting. It’s not even thirty minutes after he’s tucked Kitty into bed and settled down on the couch to get some work done, that he hears the first cry. It is sharp, deafening to his eardrums, and it puts him on red alert. 

Alexander rushes into the bedroom, finds Kitty tossing and turning in the crib. He picks her up carefully, and when his hand brushes against her forehead, he freezes. 

She’s hot. She’s too hot. 

Panic begins worming its way into his chest as he flips through the diaper bag, looking for a thermometer. Thankfully, there is one tucked into the side of a pocket, and he quickly flips the protective container off. Alexander slips it into Kitty’s mouth, hears the first beep to signify that it’s taking the temperature. 

When he hears two consecutive beeps again, he looks down at the numbers and the blood pumping in his ears is deafening. 

100.4

Fuck. What the fuck is he supposed to do? Is this something he should go to the emergency room for? Is there anything he can do? 

The thought of fever, of sickness, reminds him of his mother. It reminds him of clinging to desperation back in Nevis, desperate to keep fighting another day. 

He can’t let that happen to Kitty. 

Alexander tosses the termometer onto the bathroom sink, grabbing his phone and calling Angelica. The phone shakes in his hand as it rings. 

It rings once, twice, three times, and then it goes to voicemail. 

“Angelica, fuck, please call me back. Kitty’s got a fever and I don’t know what to fucking do. Call me.”

He calls four more times. Each time the phone rings, and rings, and rings before it cuts to voicemail. He leaves one each time, and then he calls John Church. The phone doesn’t even ring, just cuts right to voicemail and Alexander can’t help the noise that leaves his mouth. 

Why the fuck aren’t the answering?

He can feel panic beginning to creep into his stomach, coursing through his blood as the adrenaline making his vision sharp as he tries to keep himself from hyperventilating. Fuck, what if something happens to her? What if there’s nothing he can do, no way to get ahold of anyone who can come here and help him?

Helplessness weighs heavy in his limbs as he hushes the child in his arms. Her cries have ceased for the time being, but she’s still too hot. Her face is light pink and her lips quivering in a way that makes Alexander think she could start screaming again at any moment. He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm, and scrolls through his contacts and tries to find someone he knows will be awake. 

Alex is two seconds away from calling 911 when he scrolls past a name. It’s not a contact he uses often, only when he needs someone to annoy or when he finds a particularly funny meme making fun of Republicans, and he has no idea if the man will even answer, but it’s the best option he has. 

He takes a deep breath, hitting the call mobile button, and holding the phone up to his ear. It rings four times and Alexander is convinced that he’s not going to pick up. That same panic from before is growing, too hot and uncomfortable in his chest, but before he can hang up and call for an ambulance, the phone clicks. 

“Hamilton, why the fuck are you calling me?” Jefferson’s voice is annoyed on the other end, and Alexander feels tears prick at his eyes. He’d never thought he’d be so relieved to hear the man’s voice. 

“Please tell me you’re not in Virginia.” Alexander says, the words desperate and watery as they leave his mouth. Kitty turns in his arms and he has to take a shuddering breath. “Fuck, please tell me you’re still in D.C?”

They had a cabinet meeting yesterday and Jefferson was in attendance, and Alexander can only cling to the hope that he hasn’t left yet. 

“Yeah, I’m still in D.C. I don’t leave until tomorrow. What’s going on, are you alright?”

The breath that leaves his mouth is almost a sob, “I’m watching Angelica’s daughter and everything was fine, but she woke up crying and she has a fever and I don’t know what to fucking do. Angelica and John aren’t answering and there’s no one else in D.C. that can help me, and I’m panicking, I can’t let anything happen to her. I know you have kids, so can you please come help? I’m desperate, please, I don’t know what to do and I-”

“Alexander, take a breath.” Jefferson’s voice is calm on the other end of the phone, and Alexander has no choice but to listen. He inhales, deep and unsteady, and releases it. “What’s her temperature?”

“100.4 orally.”

When Jefferson speaks again, his words are almost soft, “If you haven’t already, put her in light clothing. See if she has a thin onesie, and put her in it. Turn on the fan and - she’s what? Eight months?”

“Yeah, almost nine.”

“So she can have some water. Give her a little in a sippy cup, but don’t make her drink it if she doesn’t seem to want it. Just keep an eye on her, I’ll try Angelica on my way over, okay?”

“You’re actually coming here?” Alexander says, his gaze finding Kitty’s. He had called Jefferson because he thought he would help, but knowing the man actually is coming sends a wave of cool relief through the length of his body. 

“Do you want me to come?” Jefferson answers in response, and Alexander can hear the muffled sound of movement in the background. 

“Yes, fuck,  _ please Thomas _ . I’m out of my depth and I’m freaking out.” He doesn’t realize Thomas’s christian name slipped out until he’s finished the sentence, but he’s too worried about the angel in his arms to give a damn. 

“I’m coming. It’s late so traffic won’t be bad, it’ll probably take me fifteen minutes at most. Just keep an eye on her and call me if she starts acting worse. I’ll try to get ahead of one of the Churches', and I’ll let you know if I do.”

His brain is fuzzy but he nods and tries to focus on the calming tone of Thomas’s voice. “Apartment 3B, door’s unlocked, please just fucking hurry.”

“I will, I’m in the car about to head your way. Just keep your shit together until I get there, you’ll be no help to me or Kitty if you have a heart attack.”

With those words, Thomas hangs up and Alexander takes a moment to listen to the advice. He takes another breath, forcing the blood that’s pounding in his ears to settle, because Thomas - for once in his life - makes a good point. How is he supposed to take care of Kitty, if he can’t even keep his own head on right? 

Once his pulse has returned to something more manageable, he focuses his attention on getting Kitty out of sleep sack and warm clothing, and into something more cool. He checks her diaper too, finding it dry, and slips her into a light onzie that Angelica had thankfully brought. He gets a little bottled water and puts it in her sippy cup. Kitty takes it with grabby hands, taking a few big swallows before pushing it back into Alex’s hand. 

It’s almost as soon as she hands it back that Kitty’s eyes become wide, tears welling in them, and then she breaks out in choked off cries. Alexander picks her up again, letting her rest against his chest as he shushes her softly, trying to get her to calm down. She’s screaming, her mouth right by his ear, but the pounding in his head dulles the sound. 

That’s, more or less, how Thomas finds them ten minutes later. 

Alexander hears the door shut, and turns just as Thomas walks in. The man’s eyebrows raise as he surveys the scene in front of him, and Alexander knows how bad it must look. His hair is untamed, a mess around his shoulders, and there are drying tear tracks on his cheeks. The thought of letting Thomas, his rival, of all people see him like this is horrifying, but Alexander’s pride doesn’t hold a candle to his love of Angelica’s daughter. 

“I’ve never been so happy to see you in my life,” Alexander breathes, watching as Thomas shrugs off his jacket and walks closer. 

“You say that like I’m not a pleasure to be around,” Thomas says, smoothly reaching out and letting Alexander transfer Kitty to his arms. The screams stop almost as soon as she’s in Thomas’s arms, and the sudden silence consumes Alexander. 

“What do we do? Should we call an ambulance?” Alexander asks, eyes wide as he gestures to the phone in his hand. 

Thomas sends him a skeptical look before his attention is turned back to Kitty, “That’d be unnecessary at this point, darlin’. Let’s try to cool this sweetheart down a little, and then we can figure out some next steps.”

“Thomas are you sure-”

“Do you trust me?” Thomas interrupts him, Kitty cooing softly in his arms, and Alexander blinks. 

Any other day, any other situation, and Alexander would say, ‘hell fucking no.’ But Thomas is twelve years older than him. Thomas has kids, and even though they’re all grown up now, the man has to know what he’s doing. He knows that Thomas and his wife split when their youngest was only an infant, which means that Thomas has to know how to care for a child. Thomas wouldn’t be here if he couldn’t help. He wouldn’t have let Alexander drag him out of bed at two in the morning if he couldn’t do anything. Thomas has to know, which means in this case, Alex doesn’t have much of a choice. 

“Yes,” Alexander breathes, looking into Thomas’s golden-brown eyes, “Yes, I trust you.”

“Then trust me when I tell you that everything is going to be fine.” Thomas’s words are gentle, no hint of the maliciousness Alexander is used to, “We’re going to give Kitty a lukewarm bath and dress her lightly again, and then we’ll check and make sure her temperature hasn’t gone up.”

Alexander looks at Kitty, who’s curled up against Thomas, and closes his eyes for a moment. He opens them when he feels the brush of a hand against his shoulder. He finds Thomas’s eyes, his expression kind and confident, “I will tell you if I start to worry, and if that happens then you can worry too. Until then, just trust me?”

Alexander looks into those eyes and wills his panic to subside. It doesn’t, of course, but he manages to calm it enough to nod and say, “Yeah, okay.”

The bath is less traumatic than Alexander would have expected. Thomas keeps a watchful eye on Kitty as she sits in the tub, and Alexander’s heartbeat begins to return to normal as Kitty starts to act less agitated. She smiles while in the water, giggling out loud when Thomas dips his hand in and makes a little splash. Kitty mimics the movement, splashes water up into the air and laughing - smile wide - when it splashes onto the purple of Thomas’s sweater. 

“Are you feeling a little better, sweetheart?” Thomas asks her, and Kitty reaches up to press her palm against the man’s face. Thomas’s nose scrunches, but there’s a smile on his face as he pulls her hand away. Kitty giggles, a sweet little release of air, but it unwinds a little of the anxiety wrapped around his heart. 

“Alright, I think we’re good. Alex, can you grab a towel?” Thomas says, reaching down to pick Kitty up from the bath. 

Alexander holds his hands out, towel hanging between them, and Thomas places her in his arms. Alex wraps the towel around her and leans down to press a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Come on,  _ Mi querida,  _ let’s get you dry.” Alexander mutters under his breath, carrying Kitty from the bathroom and into the bedroom. He lays her down on his bed, quickly strapping her into a fresh diaper and her green onesie. She yawns as soon as he’s got the zipper pulled up. 

“You ready to go back to bed?” Alex says, pressing his hand to her forehead. She feels a little less hot, but he wants to double check. 

“Thomas, can you grab the termometer from the sink?” He calls over his shoulder, turning back to Kitty and letting her curl into his arms. 

The man appears a moment later, silently handing the termometer to Alex and he slips it beneath Kitty’s tongue. The button beeps to let him know it’s ready, and Alexander closes his eyes as he waits for the next to consecutive beeps. He feels the bed move beside him, feels Thomas’s body heat radiating off him and can smell his familiar cologne. Any other day and it would make Alex gag, but he can’t help but find it comforting at this moment. 

The thermometer beeps twice and Alexander opens his eyes, looking down at the black numbers that read, “100.1,”

He turns it so Thomas can read the screen and groans under his breath. 

“She’s still got a fever.”

“But it’s lower,” Thomas says, his hand coming out to brush against Kitty’s forehead, “She might be fighting off an infection, which means her body is doing what it needs to do. We can’t expect the fever to be gone immediately. Is she staying here tonight?”

Alexander nods, “Angelica and John don’t get back until the morning.”

“So we’ll keep an eye on her and if she still has a fever in the morning, we’ll make sure Angelica takes her to the doctor.”

“Us?” Alexander says quietly, “You’re staying?”

Thomas is looking at him with a curious expression, “Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” He says immediately, desperation in his voice, as he reaches out and grabs ahold of Thomas’s thigh with his free hand to make sure he doesn’t move. “Please don’t leave.”

Thomas’s hand comes to rest on top of his, “I won’t. Now, come on, let’s get this angel in her crib so she can sleep the fever off.”

He allows Thomas to tuck her into the crib and makes sure the fan is on medium before he shuts the door behind them. He hears Kitty yawn, and there is - thankfully - no crying that follows. 

Alexander follows Thomas into the living room and slumps against the cabinets. His head is in his hands, resting there, as his body tries to displace the no longer needed worry in his chest. 

“She’s fine,” Thomas says quietly from beside him, “She’s going to be fine.”

Exhaustion is heavy in his limbs as he blinks up at Thomas. For the first time that night, his head is clear enough that he finally notices what Thomas is wearing. 

He’s in a purple soft knit sweater, a pair of grey sweatpants that hang loose off his hips, and dress shoes. It’s a ridiculous look and Alexander doesn’t hesitate to point it out with a breathy laugh. 

Thomas rolls his eyes, “You were panicking. I wasn't going to waste time by trying to look decent.”

And Alexander doesn’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t know how to express his appreciation for Thomas picking up the phone, for Thomas coming here, and for him helping. They’ve been enemies, rivals, for so long that he had thought it would be impossible to be anything else. 

But maybe it wasn’t. 

Before he can talk himself out of it, Alexander steps forward and into Thomas’s chest. He brings his hands up to wrap around the other man and buries his face in the warm heat of Thomas’s sweater. He hears an intake of breath, and then Thomas’s arms are returning the hug, holding Alexander tight against him. 

“Thank you,” He says, the words sounding choked off, and pressure is building behind his eyes because he’s so relieved that Thomas is here. 

“It’s the least I could do.” Thomas’s reply is whispered. Alexander breathes in harshly and pulls back enough to look up at him. 

“Are you sure she is going to be okay?” 

Thomas’s lips curve only a fraction, “She is going to be fine, darlin’. She just needs rest, and so do you.”

His eyebrows shot up, “What? I’m fine.”

“You’re exhausted from the adrenaline. Just sit down, maybe watch some TV for a while and try to unwind. You look like you’re going to shatter if you move wrong.”

And as much as he wants to protest, wants to shove himself away from Thomas and close off any hint of vulnerability, he is tired. He’s fucking exhausted. So he deflates a little, letting Thomas grab his hand and pull him towards the couch. 

He sits down on weak legs, trying to leave as much space between him and Thomas as possible. It works well enough for the first ten minutes of whatever period drama is on the TV, until he feels fatigue grow heavy in his eyes. 

“If I take a little nap, you promise you’ll keep an ear out for her?” Alexander asks, hesitancy laced between every word of his sentence. 

Thomas rolls his eyes, grabbing a decorative pillow from the floor and putting it over his lap, “Yes, I’ll watch her.” He pats the pillow once, “Get some sleep.”

Alexander reluctantly spreads himself across the couch, laying his head - gently - in Thomas’s lap. As soon as he hits the pillow, exhaustion unfolds from every bone in his body and his eyelashes flutter. 

“You promise you’ll wake me if anything happens?” He asks, voice quiet as he blinks at the TV screen. 

“I promise, Alexander. Just relax and I’ll take care of everything.” Thomas’s reply comes, and Alexander sinks a little lower into the couch. 

It’s when he’s almost asleep, the beginnings of darkness spreading across his eyes, that he feels a feather light touch. He lays still, feigning sleep, and feels Thomas’s hand, soft and gentle, as he plays with Alexander’s hair. The touch is nice and Alexander doesn’t move so Thomas will continue it. 

Tomorrow is going to be weird. Work is going to be weird. Things between him and Thomas are going to be weird, but for right now everything is okay. 

It’s fate, or a crazy coincidence, that Thomas chooses that moment to whisper softly, the words reflecting Alexander’s internal dialogue. 

“Everything’s going to be okay, darlin’. Everything’s going to be just fine.”

He relaxes a little more, listening to Thomas’s soft tone, and thinks that this time - just this time - he’s going to trust that Thomas is right. 

It’s fine, he tells himself as he drifts off to sleep, everything is fine. 

**Author's Note:**

> my Tumblr: writtenrevolution


End file.
